Why The Long Face?

If you’re a critical reader, you may be starting to suspect that this blog has a slight bias against mountain bikers. For example, if you read between the lines, you may think you detect it now and again in phrases such as “Mountain bikers are the worst and they’re ruining cycling.” Certainly there are lots of different ways to interpret that, but I suppose I can’t blame people for thinking it’s some sort of anti-mountain biker dog whistle.

Still, I maintain that I’ve treated mountain bikes more than fairly, despite the fact that they’re lazy insufferable equipment-obsessed bro-bags who are literally the worst and are totally ruining bikes and cycling–and not only that, but they’re a bunch of horse-killers to boot:

Okay, this is a tough one, and I’m going to tread carefully here, like one of those weird high-stepping horses:

First, let’s make one thing clear: a woman was hurt here, and there’s nothing funny about that, so please don’t take anything I’m about to say as an affront to her. Also, a horse is dead, and, you know, poor horsey.

Having said that…

The year is [asks Siri, doesn’t work, consults paper calendar] 2025, and in a few weeks it will be [counts on fingers] 2026. It is not 1862. Nobody needs to ride a horse. I’m not saying they shouldn’t ride horses, or that it’s wrong to ride horses, but what I am saying is that of all the modes of transportation that exist in America today the horse is probably the least necessary and therefore the most frivolous. Drivers accuse cyclists of being smug, entitled, preening hobbyists who are doing nothing more than recreating in the public right of way, and cyclists accuse drivers of being selfish pigs who need a two-ton gas-burning vehicle to travel short distances that would be easily walkable for all but the laziest of slobs, and in so doing make the world excessively dangerous and unpleasant for the rest of us. “Just ride a bike!,” says the cyclist to the driver. “Just get a car!,” the driver retorts. But neither group has anything on equestrians, whose huge lumbering vehicles have had no practical use for at least 100 years and piss and fart and shit all over the place and need a team of doctors and a source of fuel that’s measured in bushels and a whole separate estate just for themselves. The only people who still “need” horses today are the Amish, and that’s only because they’re religious fanatics–which only underscores the fact that anyone who owns a horse is crazy*. It makes buying a boat seem like a shrewd investment.

*[Believe it or not, this is not a criticism. As a cyclist I know crazy when I see it. My own “stable” (I really hate that term) of bicycles is no less crazy, proportionately speaking.]

And on top of all that, horses are deeply dysfunctional and highly temperamental:


“Pops just lost his mind, he was just terrified. He reared and he spun, and he started to gallop,” Kennedy said. She was thrown to the ground and dragged about 10 feet.


It’s one thing to encounter a wild animal. Nature owes you nothing, and if you’re set upon by…I dunno, a bear or a tiger or something, there’s nobody to hold accountable except Mother Nature herself. You’re on your own, it’s kill-or-be-killed, etc. Your problem, tough shit.

But when we’re talking about public parks and trails and domesticated animals owned by humans the calculus changes. It’s bad enough we have to share this space with so many people who can’t control their stupid dogs. (See: the suburbanite who bought some sort of exotic hunting dog because they liked the way it looked and now it just drags them all over the place and lunges at people or trips them with it’s GODDAMN retractable leash.) Must we also contend with easily-frightened creatures the size of rhinoceroses? With all due respect to the late Pops, he’s a hulking, dimwitted beast. Is it fair to everyone else to ride around in public on something like that? And how much do we owe the person who chose to ride such a thing, really? Shouldn’t we have been able to stop worrying about other people’s horses when we stopped having to remember to wind our pocket watches?

But then there’s the mountain biker, who the victim managed to photograph:

The woman fell off a horse and the guy just rides off? Mountain bikers really are the worst. THE WORST. Also…a fat bike? Frankly I’d expect better from someone on a fat bike, but clearly they’re no better than their fully-suspended brethren. Maybe he just left the full-suspension bike at home because fat bikes are better for riding on railroad tracks:


“I was probably not polite at that time, I said ‘What are you doing riding along railroad tracks?’ I said it three times and he just left,” she recalled.


And of course errant mountain bikers are at least as bad as any poorly-controlled domestic animal you’re liable to encounter on the trail:


“There have been a lot of bicyclists who’ve moved in the past five or 10 years and have enjoyed our trails,” Kennedy said. “But not every trail is meant for a bicyclist to zoom around corners. Horses have the right of way no matter where they are.” 


Still, people who ride horses sure ask a lot from the rest of us, as any horse-and-bike etiquette video illustrates:

For example, apparently I have to demonstrate to a horse that I’m a human:

Like, what else would I be? THERE’S A FUCKING HUMAN SITTING ON TOP OF YOU, HAVE YOU NOT FIGURED OUT HOW TO IDENTIFY US YET?

I’ve also got to offer them constant reassurance:

So basically it’s like dating someone who’s incredibly needy and insecure.

And on top of all that, I need to know how to read a horse’s physiognomy somehow:

Are you kidding? When does a horse not look terrified?

But most importantly, whatever you do, DON’T MENTION EQUUS!!!

That really makes them upset.

But yes, bicycles have been spooking horses for as long as there have been bicycles and horses. In fact, before the whole cars-versus-bikes thing, it was bikes versus horses:

But, you know…maybe the horses should get over it already? Certainly it’s possible. I encounter park rangers on horseback all the time and when I slow down and do all the genuflecting you’re supposed to do when you encounter someone on a horse they look at me like I’m crazy. Nothing spooks those things. I could probably ghost-ride my bike right at the horse and it would just hop over it. All I’m saying is that at this point you’d think there’d be a breed of horse that’s not scared of bikes, and a healthy market for their semen.

And finally, speaking of old-timey news, this short article also caught my eye:

I counted thirty-seven words. That’s it. Today that would be 500 Instagram posts, six one-hour YouTube videos, a $100,000 Kickstarter campaign, a limited edition “collabo” gravel bike, and a capsule collection from Pas Normal Studios.

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